I’ve never seen myself as a beach-nut. I still don’t imagine that I am, but I have come to understand why some people are. I spent nearly two days on thebeach in Ensenada, México. I’m starting to peel which is almost worth getting the sunburn, but not quite. Need I say more? Perhaps not, but I will.

Steve asked me if I would want to take a trip to México with him and Paul (another of my new roommates). Since I didn’t have anything pressing last week I decided to go. It wasn’t a long trip which was perfect. We left Tuesday evening about five o’clock and stopped in Las Vegas for a few hours. We didn’t do any gambling, but we did eat at Jack-in-the-Box and walk around the strip. I wonder if I like Jack-in-the-Box more because the food is good, or because they don’t have any in Montana.

We got to San Diego at about five in the morning, and started looking for a drug store or supermarket. Apparently none open before seven in California. We needed to buy sunscreen and Paul needed eye-drops. We ended up sleeping in a parking lot for about an hour before we were able to leave.

After a scenic tour of Tijuana (we were not lost) we headed south to Ensenada. We wanted to visit real México, not an Americanized bordertown. Cabo San Lucas was too far, but I’m not sure we made it far enough from the border. All along the road there were resorts on the beach and hotels everywhere. Nevertheless it was enjoyable, and not too bordertown-esque.

After driving around in Ensenada awhile, we found a beach and thought we might stay there. It was rather dirty, but we didn’t know what choices we had. Quite randomly a man came over and asked if we wanted to know where a better beach was. He gave us lead to a very nice beach that only cost $7.00 per night to camp. After deciding to stay there, we went and ate in a nice restaurant (El As). Paul and Steve wanted to eat in extremely nice restaurants in order to avoid Moctezuma’s Revenge. The thought was good, but I personally would have liked to eat in a place that was a little more auténtico. I guess I’m not scared of getting sick. If El As hadn’t been in México, I wouldn’t have called it authentic. It was good, but seemed somewhat americanized and not near as good as where we ate the next day. That restaurant (whose name I can’t recall) served us real Mexican tacos. I also had a papaya and plátano smoothie. I have had them both as drinks separately, but not together. There are few things that I have ingested that were so pleasing to the palate. Certainly worth the $40 (Pesos) I spent.

After playing in the ocean for awhile I laid down to take a nap. Unfortunately the suntan lotion that I used wasn’t strong enough to prevent me from getting burned—fairly bad on my shoulders. I slept on my back with my hands laid upon my stomach, and you can tell from my tan line ;-) Very cute.

We set up the tent and slept on the beach above the high-tide mark, or so we thought. I woke up at about four in the morning and went to take a stroll, but I couldn’t find my towel or sandals which I had left outside the tent door. The “peaceful” Pacific had turned mischievous, the high tide actually reaching the tent. Luckily we were at the very edge of the tide’s influence or our equipment may have been lost forever. As it was, I was able to find everything. After I assured myself that nothing was lost, I took a walk. The water had already receded, and was quite far from our tent at the time. We were all amazed that no one noticed when the water was lapping at our door.

The beach at night is beautiful. Thanks again to Thoreau for telling me that it’s cool to enjoy nature.

The next day, shortly before we left the beach, Steve wanted to buy something from one of the young vendors on the beach. At one point he told the 6 year old merchant that he didn’t have any more money. In response the young boy nonchalantly reached up and patted Steve’s pocket to ensure that indeed there was no more money to be found. Sure enough there wasn’t anymore, and so the deal was struck. It was without a doubt one of the funniest things I have ever seen.

Before leaving town we stopped and shopped in Ensenada proper. I bought two necklaces and a black leather baseball cap. While we were thus browsing a man offered us drugs, prostitutes, or whatever else we might want. He promised that he paid off the police so that we wouldn’t have anything to worry about. His persistence was quite risible. He obviously didn’t know that he was talking to three BYU students.

That night, on our way back through San Diego, the car started to overheat. We were forced to spend the night in the car. Although a BMW, the back seat was far from comfortable. If Steve and Paul are to be believed, the front seats are no more comfortable. The next morning we found a repair shop. On the advice of a mechanic from the next door lube shop, we replaced the thermostat without paying $45 to test that it really was bad. Luck was with us and we were able to drive home without further incident.

While on the beach I read two books (you didn’t think you could escape without a book or movie review did you?). The first that I read was The Fountains of Paradise by Arthur C. Clarke. It was supremely enjoyable. It’s a tale of a man trying to build an elevator to space. In part, the book chronicles his battle with a society of monks living at the top of the mountain where he wishes to build the tower. A story about an irresistible force meeting and immovable object. Several of the characters, and yours truly, couldn’t decide whether they wanted him to succeed or fail. This seems a rare sentiment to have when involved immersed in a narrative. One episode at the end was rather unbelievable because it implied that the head engineer knew more of the details than any other person. Certainly they may know more about the project in general, but I doubt they know many of the details, especially on a gargantuan project like it was made out to be. Other than that, it’s the sort of read you might expect from the author of 2001: A Space Odyssey.

The second book that I read was The Cat Who Walked Through Walls by Robert Heinlein. To be honest I high hopes for this book, but they were dashed. The story was actually rather good for the first two-thirds—then Heinlein decides to throw it all away. Not too mention that all his characters are nymphomaniacs. There was nothing explicit in this book, but the main character and his wife each encourage the other in sleeping with other people. Not something I particularly want to read about. Overall the story was moderately well written, the plot was decent for the first half, the characters were nearly believable, the cat who walks through walls makes no contribution to the story whatsoever, and the ending was incredibly lame. If in doubt (or even if not), read something else.